The Hell We Make
by immoralities
Summary: Ikebukuro is about to go to HELL. [DEATH NOTE/DURARARA/ZANKYOU NO TERROR/KUROKO NO BASKET CROSSOVER]
Hi all who have chosen to read this Death Note/Zankyou No Terror/Kuroko No Basket/Durarara crossover that I've been wanting to write for a while! Here are a few important notes to read before the journey begins at the risk of you being terribly confused-

NAMES-In the anime Kuroko No Basket, the characters are called by their last names. This will be what you'll see throughout the fiction, but mostly through dialogue. Introductions to characters as well as inner monologues will have first names used. Just to let you know.

NEW MEMBER OF THIS SITE- And being that I don't have a computer at the moment (say hello to the mayor of Broke-ville) I am writing this on my phone, and with how this site works, it's a real bîtch to do. So please excuse the few mistakes, although I do my very best to re-read and edit my chapters at least five times before posting.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE/DURARARA/ZANKYOU NO TERROR/KUROKO NO BASKET OR ANY OF THEIR PLOTS/CHARACTERS. I ONLY OWN MY ORIGINAL PLOTS/CHARACTERS

 **The Hell We Make**

 **[Prologue]**

In some ways, Light Yagami mused, death was never meant for him.

Of course, that would exclude the fact that death was forever a part of him, a clawed hand that wrapped around his very heart and pained the left over glow of a pure soul that could never be more than a flickering candle, simply a withering ghost of what once was-what could've been.

But in the sense of an ending-of a life left unfulfilled- _that_ was something Light could never imagine for himself.

After all, he had a plan- _Kira_ had a plan-and his wishes were to be granted.

There was a pounding in Light's head at the moment, however, so he considered leaving his monumentally diabolical schemes for a later hour when he could think straight. A problem arose in that stance of time, still, and had Light not been so lost in an endless train of mentally crippling thoughts, he would've come to the conclusion sooner.

Looking at the demon of death beside him, Light raised an eyebrow, face contorting oddly at the grimy sensation as flecks of dried blood fell past his face.

"Ryuk, not that I'm complaining, but I must ask," the original Kira began,"How-or should I say _why_ -am I alive-considering you're the one that killed me."

The Shinigami, standing beside Light in all his horrifyingly amused glory, glanced at the blood covered boy whose eyes were just as they had been moments before his gruesome end-wide, determined, _psychotic._

 _Funny_ , Ryuk gave a fleeting thought, _His eyes were always cold, but never unhinged, never wild-not before his last few moments at least._

A deranged smile that could be considered normal for himself edging wider, Ryuk looked forward into the void of blackness that surrounded him and the young man.

"Some of the higher-ups seem to have taken an interest in you-as well as a few others. It's an entertainment filler, I believe. They just want a good show."

The news seemed to pass over Light's head. Instead of mulling over the thoughts of coming back to life-of experiencing _death_ -only one deduction seemed to edge it's way into the auburn haired boy's mind, and his lip curled into a sneer, prompting more flecks of blood to chip away.

"Is L back as well?"

Ryuk chuckled, the sound familiarly high pitched and sadistic in a way that made Light want to slap him.

"Well it wouldn't be much of a show without the world's greatest detective now would it?"

 **{}{}{}{}**

 _What's the point?_

The gun weighed heavy in his hand.

 _There's nothing left to be done. It's over._

Safety off, finger on the trigger.

 _No one would know. No one would care. Maybe the old cop would look back, but in the end, it wouldn't matter. All I'd have to do is-_

A chilling breeze slithered down his spine. He paused briefly.

 _I don't even have a name._

The windows seemed to creak in protest from the outside, although he could not remember anything other than a light wind surrounding the day.

 _Who gives a damn?_

A slight cracking sound could be heard, and he reframed from looking to see what it was. It was just a part of him, the need to be alert and so aware of his surroundings. Routines. Habits.

 _I don't need them anymore._

Gritting his teeth, he pulled the weapon up in one swift motion, eyes wide open and gazing into nothing.

Even as the glass shattered, even as the new stir of winds wrapped itself around him and squeezed with hands that resonated a coldness unlike anything he'd ever felt-yet still familiar in the way it hurled him into an abyss-he still refused to deter from the ultimate goal.

"You still need your skills, Nine, just as you still need me."

The voice was eerily familiar, just as well, it was beautifully bright, every bit as joyous as it had been before.

The gun fell, clattering to the floor in a ruckus of noise that was pointedly ignored the moment he looked up, presently gaping eyes widening considerably at the sight that met him, the glowing picture that was so much more than he could take. And yet, he couldn't help but let a contented warmth spread through him, his face pulling back into the usual hardened features. Now, there would be no need for panic. Now, he could wait before the trigger was pulled.

"...Twelve."

 **{}{}{}{}**

"Uhm...what?" Taiga Kagami questioned as he stood in the comically large room. White marble adorning every inch of the Akashi mansion, the red head bristled at the looks of exasperation directed his way.

"Honestly Baka, I know I'm a bit slow, but even I understood what Akashi said."

Snarling, Kagami fumed,"Oi, shut it Aho!" he spat at Daiki Aomine, ace of the Generation of Miracles.

Narrowing his eyes, Aomine raged where he sat, ready to start another endless battle before a calm yet stern voice resonated throughout the room.

"Daiki, Taiga, either calm down or I'll have to take drastic measures to ensure that you do."

Flinching, both men immediately halted any further hostility upon hearing the command of former captain of Teiko Middle School's basketball team; Seijūrō Akashi.

Despite Akashi's transition back to his former self after having changed into a completely different person, the boy had always had an intimidating aura surrounding him. From years growing up in a strictly disciplined home, or the short time with his opposing personality, Seijūrō didn't know, nor did he care to at the moment.

Clearing his throat, Akashi repeated his earlier announcement to his former teammates as well the newest addition to their circle of players.

"This year, a special basketball tournament is being held in Ikebukuro, Tokyo. Charity event or something of the like is all I've cared to learn about it. Many basketball teams, most the ones we know well enough, will be attending. By request of my father, however, and a few others funding the convention of sorts, it was asked that the Generation of Miracles and the team closest to them in skill would attend as guests of honor. I only asked you all here to see if you would be interested, particularity the Seirin members."

The room strayed off into silence after that, not uncomfortable luckily. After the events at the final game between Seirin and Razukan, each team with a Miracle had been defeated by none other than one of their own-the phantom sixth member, Tetsuya Kuroko and his new light.

Finally realizing their mistakes as a team and people, the generation of exceptionally skilled players flocked back together, albeit slowly. All relieved in the way Kuroko forgave them so easily after their emotionally rough treatment, the number of teams grew close-well, as close as they could. Personalities clash as they always do, but, somehow, it worked.

Cocking her head to the side for a moment, Riko Aida, Seirin coach, thought for a moment before grinning,"Sure it's not an imposition anyway, right boys?"

The Seirin team, all except for the ever stoic Kuroko, gave each other contemplative glances before shrugging.

"I don't see why not," Kuroko spoke at last.

Ryōta Kise, one of the easier going Miracles, bit his lip nervously, wringing his hands together in his lap, a motion that didn't go unnoticed by Kuroko and Akashi, both skilled in their observation abilities.

"Ryōta," Akashi called, unable to drop the habit of calling his friends uby their first names,"You look troubled. Out with it."

Kise sighed, pushing his blonde locks back before speaking,"It's not that I don't want to go, it's just that I thought we could just lay low for a while-traveling, basketball, and all. You know, after all the stuff that's been going on-and not between us; the Kira murders, the Sphinx terrorists. It just doesn't seem right to be all happy after that."

"But Kise-kun," Kuroko objected, tone ever so emotionless,"We can not be stuck in the dead ends of what can not be undone. We can only be grateful that it seems to be over now and hope that it won't begin again. Enjoy the peacefulness we have. It may not last long."

 _'God_ ,' all in the room thought fondly, _'Never know what to expect from the great and wise Kuroko._

 _A_ soft smile made its way across Kise's face then,"Alright Kurokochii, only because it came from you."

Everyone had to let their own small grin show then.

 **{}{}{}{}**

Shizuo Heiwajima was confused.

And coming from him, that was something to be worried about, as his emotional capacity ranged from varying stages of angry, angrier, and angriest. Not that he didn't expience compassion now and then, but it was fleeting, reserved for very few.

But what was worse-

He didn't feel like killing Izaya Orihara today.

 _'The world must be ending,_ ' Shizuo thought before shaking his head.

No, it was more than that, he was sure of it. Walking the streets of Ikebukuro, an...interesting part of Tokyo if nothing else, Shizuo kept his head titled downward just slightly, shoulders hunched as he peered at the ground through his prized pair of sunglasses.

 _Something isn't right._

Of course, a lot of things were technically not right in the city, much like headless motorcycle riders, red eyed slashers, and Shizuo himself, holding a power of unparalleled strength within his very bones.

Yet again, though, it was more than that. And as he pondered the thought, Shizuo came to the conclusion that the happenings in Ikebukuro weren't necessarily wrong as much as they were abnormal-well, the Slasher was certainly a wrong and abnormal, but the blonde bartender chose to overlook that for a moment.

Wrong now meant a change. A change in the cool air and light blue skies, a change in the gangs that littered the streets...

A change in the meaning of _dangerous_ in the mysterious city of Ikebukuro.

 **Welcome to the end of the prologue! As you can probably tell, slight AU for each story to fit this plot line; Feedback is appreciated. Also, are there any relationships you'd like to see? I'm all in for yaoi as well (which is half the stuff on this site for anime fanfics honestly not that I'm complaining) so feel free to tell me your ships!**


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